Page 64 of Daughter of the Dark Sun
Another gentle kiss. Sweet, loving. She buried her head into his chest, sinking into his embrace.
“I…” She paused, chewing the inside of her mouth, then forced the words out before she could think. “I don’t know what it means to love someone. Last night…”
Apattar wanted this, but at what price? She pulled away as an image of her Lady Eithranren’s weeping face raced by. Suddenly, the room felt too small, the woman dipped in fire, but the kind that only brought unending pain and suffering. She abandoned all reason, let her heart play when it never understood the rules of the game.
A look of concern flashed across Therat’s face.
“I… I didn’t… last night, the choking… I should have known better. For your first.” The words tumbled out of Therat’s mouth. He sat up, biting his lip as a thread of Shadow-weave wrapped around his shaking hands.
“No, it’s not that!” Apattar exclaimed. The thought of Therat blaming himself for giving her what she wanted sent a lurch through her stomach.
“No, no, I wanted it last night! It was… exquisite. Truly. It’s not you. I just, shit!” The words clung to her throat, every breath threatening to release the tears building with each second. “I don’t know. I had a plan. Simple, easy. Sleep with you, rid myself of these confused feelings. But I can’t. I don’t want to. Fuck you for making me feel this way, Therat!” An explosion of tears fell over her cheeks, hot and salty in her mouth.
Therat pulled her into his chest, his arms refusing to let the maiden fight back. He stroked her hair, soft touch pulling the wretched guilt from her and soothing a quaking heart.
“I don’t know what you want, Mireithren. But I will give you anything you desire if it makes you smile again. Please. For me?” The sincerity of Therat’s words ached.
“What if it kills you?” she sobbed.
“I’d rather die for you if it makes you happy than watch you suffer,” he whispered in her ear.
Apattar choked on the rising nausea lapping over her. Why did he have to say the right thing, even when he didn’t know what was being asked of him? And why did she have to kisshim yesterday, start this whole confusion of emotions and let her heart ruin years of work? It amazed Apattar how stupid she could be.
A deep sigh released some of the wild emotions roiling inside. She untangled herself from Therat’s arms and slid across the bed. Cool tile greeted her feet—a welcome distraction.
“I wish you still hated me. I can’t ask such a thing of you,” she said at last, not looking back at Therat. A muffled noise, almost like a cry of pain, filled the air.
Apattar stood and pulled her clothes on, motions automatic as her mind and heart waged a ruthless war inside. What would he say if she told him the truth, unveiled how she first sought him not for love, but to become a weapon? The man held no reverence for the gods; he couldn’t fake it if he tried, the disdain in his eyes hard to miss. Even when Apattar spoke of her Lady Eithranren he teased her, said she listened to intuition, not a god.
She wanted him to be right. It was her willpower that helped Apattar survive the horrors of her childhood, not the gods or fate. There had to be another way.
Apattar sat back down on the bed and moved to grab her boots. She looked up to see Therat holding them instead, a smile mixed with sorrow on his face. He knelt without a word and slid one boot on at a time. Her heart quivered as his touch lingered on her thigh.
“Why did you come find me, Mireithren?” he asked at last, still kneeling in front of her. Apattar froze at the question.
“I told you already. To help me save the world, those like us.”
“And what role was I meant to play?”
Apattar bit down on her lip before replying. “You’d have every right to kill me where I stand if I tell you,” she whispered. Cool threads of Shadow-weave wrapped around her arms as if readying to protect the woman. Therat chuckled at her words.
“If you’re about to say your Goddess wanted to use my shadows, I already figured it out. And you know what?” He grabbed her chin and leveled her gaze with his. “Fuck the gods. If they cared so much, they wouldn’t have given me a taste of happiness, only to rip it away.”
Apattar jumped at the words. Therat spoke with such an odd calmness, as if they were discussing what to have for breakfast instead of defying the gods.
“Why even come with me?” Her eyes searched his.
“Because you are myliraes, Mireithren.”
He cupped both hands around her face, pulling her forehead to his. His hands shook. Was he upset with her?
“I have seen your face in my dreams a thousand times, yet never did I wish to wake. The gods may have fated us together, but where are they now? I don’t care what some dead Goddess tells you. You are the only thing I care about now. I will not let you hurt yourself to save a world that would watch you burn with glee.”
Why was it so hard to take what she always wanted? Who else could love herbutTherat?
“Love always flees from my side. I just found you, but now I’m terrified of losing you,” she sobbed. “This wasn’t a part of the plan! This isn’t my destiny! What am I supposed to do?” Her sobs turned into a wail. Therat held her tighter.
After a time, he lifted her chin with his thumb and forefinger. He looked long into her eyes, a softness there she had never seen before. Therat’s other hand brushed the hair behind her ear and caressed the scars running up and down her cheek. She nuzzled into his touch. He made her feel so beautiful. As if she wasn’t broken, her face forever ruined by her father’s malice. Therat’s loving touch made it easy to forget the scars existed.
